CW:

A brisk morning chill forces its way through me, seeping it's way past the thin polyester of my work-out outfit. Shivering slightly as I shake off the last dregs of sleepiness from my eyes, I quietly shut the front door behind me. 

I start my morning run with a stretch just outside the apartment before taking off at a light jog. I keep my pace even, measuring the breaths that I’m taking carefully. If I keep my pace steady, I know that I can make it the full mile without losing any speed. With my body occupied by the routine action of putting one foot after the other, I let my mind wander.

I realize my mistake all too late. The image that comes to mind is that of short auburn brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Words and phrases dance at the forefront of my mind, tugging at my heartstrings.

“So, you don’t trust me?” her voice was twisted with something that I was too emotional at the time to decipher.

“It’s not that. I do, but…” I trailed off, unsure how to finish the thought. She didn’t look very convinced. To be honest, I don’t think I was either.

I snap back to the present, shaking away the unpleasant memory with a shiver. The cool morning air masking my discomfort at the memory, tears threatening me from the edges of my eyes. I blink quickly a couple times, looking around me for distractions. My surroundings are incredibly bland and don’t offer much distraction, the suburbs are slowly turning into shops on each side as I approach the University.

There are a couple of other people milling about the streets on either side, my side of the street holding a couple of outdoor patios filling with people out for some early breakfast. The scent of coffee and freshly baked bread hits my nose as I pass a cafe, my stomach gurgles impatiently at the thought of food. I pick up the pace just a bit, eager to make it back to the apartment and get some food into me.

I approach a red light, jogging in place while I wait for it to go green. As I wait for the light, my eyes scan the road. My brain stutters for a second as my eyes land on a girl with short brown hair who is waiting on the other side of the street from me. My breath catches in my throat as she glances up and our eyes meet.

Then I let that breath out, the moment passing. It isn’t her.

The crosswalk turns green and the few people moving around me kickstarts my brain enough that I can continue moving. I dodge past the slower moving people around me, focusing on my breathing as my heart calms down.

Next thing I know, I’m back in front of my apartment, panting heavily and still out of it. I shake my head distractedly as I open the front door, using my other hand to reach behind my head and pull the hair tie out of my hair. Blond locks, slick with sweat, fall around my shoulders and I run my hands through them carefully to get them out of my eyes and into some semblance of neatness. I kick off my shoes by the door as I step inside, right next to another pair. My brothers.

Walking into the apartment, I’m met with uncomfortable silence. Not unusual for the time of day, but unnerving because it hasn’t stopped for a while. I step into the kitchen, pulling the fridge open and peering inside. I scan the contents and let out a sigh as I see the two plates of food I’ve put in there still inside. I think for a second before pulling them both out and setting them on the counter.

I pull the seran wrap off the first plate and slide it into the microwave. Both plates have white rice with japanese curry on it. It’s a simple curry made from a curry brick. Potatoes, carrots, onions, and stew meat inside. I grab two spoons and then wait for the microwave. The first plate comes out of the microwave and I smile at the smell of reheated curry. It’s leftovers, so it’s not going to be as good as when I first made it, but it’s still good enough to sate my appetite.

Before I give into the hunger and dig into my plate of food, I pull the seran wrap off the other plate and toss it into the microwave to reheat as well. My eyes wander towards the other bedroom in our apartment as I pick at my own plate of leftover curry. My brother’s bedroom.

It’s been two whole days since he came home. The entire day after he came home, I wondered whether or not he had actually come home, but all of his stuff was still here. Even his shoes are by the door. When I came back from classes though, still nothing had changed. The house was quiet, and his shoes were still by the door. As far as I can tell, he didn’t go to his classes yesterday.

The microwave beeps, drawing my attention away from the door to his room. I turn and pull the plate out carefully, setting it on the counter to cool down. After a few seconds of leaving the plate to cool, I lay my spoon down on my own plate and walk over to his door. I debate over whether I should knock on his door, but he hasn’t left his room in two days. Something is clearly wrong if he’s not even eating.

Memories of my own recent breakup remind me of what it’s like to be locking yourself away, too absorbed in your own feelings to bother with the outside world. After all, who pulled me out of my own grief? Who went out and bought Angel Hair pasta just to make my favorite meal because he knows I like it. My brother, Jay.

Curry isn’t exactly his favorite meal, but it’s something at least. Maybe I should stop by the store later for some fresh steaks for him.

I knock roughly on the door twice, listening carefully for any shuffling from inside the door. The room is quiet for a few seconds and I wonder if he’ll just ignore me, but then I hear it. First the sound of shuffling, and then a thud and a yelp and a crash. I tense at the sounds coming from the room, “Jay? Are you okay?” I ask. Worry edges into my voice as I strain my ears against the door.

He doesn’t respond. Instead there’s more shuffling and thumps from inside the room. I can even hear some muffled talking from inside, his voice going from quiet to loud as he mumbles to himself. Then the door opens.

He looks like shit. His hair is greasy and unkempt, his medium length hair is sticking out at odd angles and clumping together in small sections. His eyes are red from crying with huge bags and dark circles under them, tear stains are faintly visible against his cheeks. Aside from how his eyes physically look, the way he looks at me catches my attention. Confusion and fear ripple across his features as he stares at me. His eyes are wide and unsure.

After another moments hesitation, he lurches forward quickly, wrapping his arms around my midsection tightly and burying his face into my chest. I stumble back a step at the strength of the embrace, feeling him squeeze me in a desperate hug. I instantly wrap my arms around him, tentatively reaching out and running my nails up and down his back like our mother used to do for us as kids. He shakes in my arms, not quite sobbing, but clearly struggling.

“Jay? Is everything okay?” I say quietly, my face etched with worry as I look down at him. He pulls away from the hug, looking up at me with wide eyes.

He lets go of me carefully, looking down at himself. “Jay? Is… is that my name?” he asks, his voice a whisper.

My blood chills as I hear that, wondering for a second if I heard him correctly. Combined with his stunned expression and general confusion, I swallow the lump in my throat and grab him by the shoulders. With as much concern as I can, I look him directly in the eye. I study his features and he studies mine, confusion still dancing across every inch of his expression. “You don’t know?” I ask, frightened. He frowns gently at that.

“No. It doesn’t feel right. That doesn’t feel like my name. None of this feels right…” His voice goes quiet as he trails off, his voice cracking towards the end of his sentence. His hand goes up to his throat immediately, touching his Adam's apple. He gulps down a panicked breath, trying to steady himself.

I watch carefully as he looks away from me, focusing on the middle distance as he makes a couple gulping motions. “Ahhh, ahhh, aaaah” He makes a couple of loud sounds, completely focused on the sounds he’s making and not focused on me anymore. I take a tentative step towards him but stop myself. I’m worried for his well-being, but I have no idea what’s going on. His generally deeper voice softens as he goes on, varying in pitch before eventually… shifting. “Ahhh, Ah. Ah. That’s... a little better.” It’s difficult to put my finger on whatever just happened to his voice, but it’s softer. I didn’t think his voice could even do it, but he sounds distinctly more… feminine.

“Jay?” I ask softly. He turns to me, looking meek and distraught. “What’s going on?” I ask, trying my best to keep my voice even.

“I… I don’t know.” The new voice is strange to hear coming out of his mouth. He sounds as pitiful as he looks. “Who are you? Do you know who I am?” He asks, his eyes linking with mine hopefully. My breath catches at that and the silence between us stretches on for a couple of seconds, Jay looking at me hopefully the whole time.